


Unfavorable Outcome

by SolarMorrigan



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Angst, Blood, Hopeful Ending, M/M, look they time travel it's not like I'd let the MCD stay permanent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-11 00:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18671065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Accidents happen, and actions have consequences; Dakota knows this better than most. He’s always been prepared to accept them.





	Unfavorable Outcome

**Author's Note:**

> From an anon on Tumblr: SAD DAKAVENDISH IDEA!! Imagine Cavendish dieing (again) and Dakota going back like usual to save him, which he succeeds at. But what he doesnt see is that by saving Cavendish, it starts a chain reaction that ends with Dakota getting fatally injured. Cavendish is of course in shock, and tries to help, but Dakota is bleeding too much and is quickly losing consciousness. In his last moments, he tells Cavendish how much he loves him, before dieing in his arms, leaving Cavendish distraught and alone.
> 
> So I wrote this, but I did at least give it kind of a hopeful ending because even when I do angst I apparently can't keep it that way

_Remember your training._

If your partner is injured, apply first aid.

Cavendish’s hands were shaking. He swallowed back the mounting nausea and pressed his hands down harder; his coat was already practically soaked through, and he could feel his hands going sticky-slick with blood.

Hadn’t he finished his first aid and field medicine courses with top marks? He couldn’t remember what to do next. He couldn’t think.

_Remember your training._

If necessary and when possible, call for backup.

The intertemporal communicator had been destroyed. Cracked nearly in half when Dakota had shoved Cavendish out of the way of a falling piece of machinery. Cavendish had been yelling at him about it when–

Cavendish didn’t even think he’d be able to operate it if it were functional; his hands were shaking too hard, and there was too much blood to use the touch screen.

Christ, there was so much blood. Cavendish had never seen so much, never had to deal with– couldn’t think–

No, no, no. He had to pull himself together.

_Put on a brave face, Balthazar._

“You’re going to be alright,” Cavendish said, praying his voice wasn’t shaking as much as his hands.

“Yeah,” Dakota croaked, “I’ll pull through, no sweat.”

“Quite right.” Cavendish nodded; he attempted a smile, but knew it came out crooked and false.

He tried to apply better pressure to the wound, uncertain of what else he could do with no better first aid tools available and no help on the way. Dakota barely reacted when Cavendish pushed down, and another bolt of anxiety lanced through Cavendish’s chest.

“Dakota–”

“Hey, y’know, in– in case I don’ make it, though,” Dakota cut in, voice a faded copy of its usual brashness, “I jus’ gotta– gotta tell you…”

“Hush,” Cavendish snapped, “you’re fine, you’re going to be _fine.”_

Dakota sighed, wheezy and shallow. “I really love you.”

Cavendish froze, joints locking stiff in shock. “What?”

“I just– ‘m in love with you, Cav. ‘n I’m–”

“Dakota–”

“‘m okay with this. ‘cause y’re okay–”

“You’re talking nonsense, don’t–”

“I jus’ wan’ ya t’be okay.”

“Stop! You’re going to be fine!”

Dakota’s words were beginning to slur together alarmingly, his face ashy and eyes unfocused behind his colored lenses.

_Remember your training._

In the event of an emergency, do not panic. Time agents must remain calm and in control at all times.

Cavendish was fairly certain he was going to start hyperventilating.

_Brave face, Balthazar._

“Promise me,” Dakota sighed, almost inaudible now, “y’ll be careful, Cav.”

“What?” Cavendish blurted; Dakota was– was– and he wanted _Cavendish_ to be careful? “Of course– I’m always careful, I’ll be fine, you just– you save your energy, alright?”

Dakota hummed, eyes sliding shut. His hand twitched, as though he was reaching for Cavendish, but couldn’t quite make it. After a moment’s hesitation, Cavendish removed one hand from the makeshift compress of his coat; the bleeding had slowed, and he knew, even in the fog of panic, what that meant. He took Dakota’s hand.

A twitch of a smile crossed Dakota’s pale face. “Love you,” he mumbled.

“I– so you said, yes,” Cavendish stuttered. “And I– well, I– Dakota?”

The hand in his had gone limp.

_“Dakota?”_

His hands were still shaking, fingers slipping against Dakota’s skin as he searched for a pulse.

He couldn’t find one.

“No, no, no, don’t you dare! Dakota!” Cavendish took Dakota by the shoulders, giving him a frantic shake. “Dakota, _please!”_

Dakota’s head lolled back when Cavendish pulled him forward, a horrifying impression of a doll left limp and lying on the floor.

Cavendish sobbed. “Don’t leave, yet. _Please…”_ He eased Dakota back against the floor, leaning forward to press his forehead against Dakota’s shoulder. “I– I’m sorry. For yelling, for – for not seeing– I need you. Please come back.”

It was no use. Even through his tears, Cavendish could smell the thick copper tang in the air. There was too much of it to deny the facts; there was no heartbeat beneath Cavendish’s hands, no breath against his skin.

Dakota was dead.

And Cavendish was alone.

_Remember your training._

In the event of another agent’s death, DO NOT INTERFERE. Report to your direct supervisor immediately.

When the sobs slowed and the tears dried up, Cavendish sat stiffly back on his heels. He had to report this. Numbly, he reached into Dakota’s pocket for the keys to the time machine.

He would go back to the office, report the mission as a failure, report Dakota as– as–

_DO NOT INTERFERE._

Report Dakota as–

_DO NOT INTERFERE._

As… what was he _doing?_

He held in his hands the keys to a _time machine_ and he was going to just let his partner slip away?

No.

The rest of the world got do-overs, why shouldn’t they?

_Remember your training._

_Sod_ his training.

Cavendish carefully rearranged Dakota’s splayed limbs into something that looked more comfortable. He knew it didn’t matter now, but couldn’t quite bring himself not to care. He straightened Dakota’s sunglasses and, almost as an afterthought, pressed a kiss to his still-warm forehead.

“I love you, too,” Cavendish murmured, pushing himself to his feet, “and I’m going to make sure you know it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/184576415748/sad-dakavendish-idea-imagine-cavendish-dieing) on Tumblr


End file.
